


take my hand, take my whole life too

by elsinorerose, shaypotter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Romance, gratuitous wedding fluff, it's great, seriously this is so saccharine just be prepared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsinorerose/pseuds/elsinorerose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaypotter/pseuds/shaypotter
Summary: "Traditional Nicodrani weddings can take many forms, full of different customs and rituals and words, but today's ceremony is going to be short and simple. They only had a few weeks to plan it, after all — they have actually let a rumor circulate that Jester is pregnant in order to divert suspicion about the very short notice — and besides, the ceremony itself isn't the point. The point is to observe the Duke and the magistrate, to eavesdrop on them if they sneak away together at any point during the reception, and so Jester and the others have arranged for little more than a brief meditation, one song, and vows.It will be fifteen minutes at the most, thinks Caleb. Maybe twenty, if things go a little long. He can get through it. It will be fine."Jester and Caleb pull off an elaborate ruse.Written for day 1 of #widojestweek, for the prompt "dance."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ages ago Christine promised [Bones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonesout) some wedding fic in exchange for an embarrassing photo of Bones's hair with pink extensions. This long overdue gift is now gladly given. Thanks to [Comet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyouhometoo), our resident Zemnian expert, and Bones, [Baelkaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baelkaz), and [LadyofPurple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofPurple), our glorious beta-readers, for all their help. Please ignore how fast and loose we played with POV in this fic, this is not a college writing seminar, you are not allowed to slap us on the wrist. :)

_ "CALEB!"  _ shouts Jester at the top of her lungs,  _ "DID YOU GET THE RINGS?" _

She hears a chuckle from the other side of the door, which...isn't actually that thick, really, she probably didn't have to shout that loud.  _ "Ja,  _ I have the rings, Jester," comes Caleb's voice.

Jester's heart skips a beat. Which is dumb. This isn't  _ real,  _ none of it's real, they're not really getting married today. They're hosting a fake wedding, is what they're doing, to get the magistrate of Nicodranas and Duke Damali in the same room together so that Beau and Fjord can figure out if they're the ones working together to betray the Conclave. This is a  _ mission,  _ and Jester is playing a  _ part,  _ which means that Caleb is too.

There is the slightest creak as the doorknob begins to turn.

_ "Don't come in!"  _ Jester shrieks, her hands caught in her headpiece as she adjusts the veil she's trying to pin to her hair.

Outside the room, Caleb grins, turns the knob  _ so slowly  _ and pushes the door open just a crack. "What was that?" he calls. "Did you say  _ come in?" _

The door  _ slams  _ shut.

He laughs softly. "Maybe not?"

"You can't  _ see me!"  _ hisses Jester from inside. "It's bad luck!  _ God,  _ it's like you've never  _ gotten married before." _

Caleb rests his forehead against the door, smiling. His heart has no right to feel this full. "This would be my first time," he murmurs.

"Well you can't see my dress till the actual ceremony, Caleb, it's  _ tradition." _

He smooths a careful hand down his own outfit, which still feels vaguely uncomfortable, like he's impersonating someone. The Nicodrani robe is a dark red, like heart's blood, accented with gold embroidery and falling past his knees, layered over dark trousers and a white vest that can just be seen through the robe's golden clasps. It is all...expensive, and formal — this is a wedding, of course it is formal — but it is like nothing Caleb ever expected to wear again.

But Jester picked it out herself. The least bright, least ostentatious robe she could find —  _ you'd never wear anything flashy, Cayleb, I know that,  _ she'd said, drawing out that first syllable of his name the way only Jester does, her mouth curved up in a soft smile.

So he's wearing the robe. After all, it's tradition.

"You have a lot of experience getting married, Lavorre?" he finds himself asking through the door. "You seem pretty knowledgeable."

On the other side, Jester grins as she finishes pinning her veil and moves on to add the last touches to her earrings, horn jewelry, and makeup. "No, but I've read, like, a  _ ton  _ of wedding books, Caleb, I know  _ everything.  _ I used to plan out my dream wedding with Mama sometimes!"

"How is this one shaping up? Dream come true?"

She can't help but keep smiling. "Oh, you know...not too bad."

"No cold feet yet?"

"My feet are  _ freezing,  _ Caleb." Jester slips into her wedding shoes — lace-covered slippers with just a bit of a heel. "I mean, I'm only going through with this to, you know,  _ save the city.  _ If there weren't  _ actual lives at stake  _ I'd be climbing out the window  _ right now." _

She hears Caleb's soft laugh, the one that always makes her stomach flip with pleasure. "Truly, you are a hero for the masses, marrying me."

"It's a pretty big sacrifice."

God, she's  _ blushing  _ — the face that looks back at her in the mirror is flushed a  _ deep  _ pink that her light, natural makeup can't do anything to hide. Jester takes a few deep breaths, tries to steady herself. It's fine. It's good for the ruse, actually — people will expect her to be a  _ blushing bride,  _ right? Everyone will expect it.

(Will Caleb — ?)

She stops herself. 

"Um, are the rings super pretty?" she calls out, hoping she doesn't sound as self-conscious as she feels.

"No, I bought you an ugly ring," replies Caleb. "Hope that is all right." He can feel the weight of them both, as small as they are, in the breast pocket of his robe. They burn there, like spell components that he's just prepared, waiting to be brought out at the right moment.

"Make sure you remember to give them to Caduceus before the ceremony, okay?" comes Jester's voice through the door.

"I won't forget," he promises, and he rests his hand against the door for a moment before he moves away. 

The shadows of Jester's feet shift back and forth under the bottom of the door and catch Caleb's eye, and he can't breathe for a moment. She is  _ right there. _

"We could break tradition, you know," he hears himself say softly, "and speak without shouting through a door."

"Do you want our marriage to be  _ cursed?" _

Gods help him, he can  _ hear  _ the smile in her voice. "Fair point," he manages, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. It's almost humiliating how much he wants to just... _ see  _ her. See her before he's expected to act the part, before every word and action becomes calculated for an audience. He wishes he were allowed to admire her, openly, just the two of them. To worship her with his eyes, before anyone else gets to see her in a wedding dress.

Caleb clears his throat roughly. "I should go help everyone get ready." This is a mission, after all. "I will see you downstairs in a bit."

It's as he's turning to leave that her hears her murmur his name.

He freezes. "Jester?"

Her voice is quiet, but brimming with an undertone of excitement. "See you soon."

And just like that, his resolve breaks. He turns back, rests his hand flat against the door again, and takes a deep breath. "...one peek?"

There's a moment of silence, and then Jester opens the door. Just a crack, just a few inches, enough for her to poke her face through while she hides the rest of herself behind the door. Just enough to show a flash of white, a glimpse of a veil flowing back behind her hair where it's pinned to a soft updo by a crystalline comb. Enough to reveal Jester's sparkling eyes, her sweet face dusted with freckles and the faintest pink blush, her mouth turned up in a mischievous smile.

"Hi," she says archly.

It's almost too much. All of it. Caleb's heart gives a painful leap in his chest. He must sound as breathless as he feels when he finally replies, "Hi."

Jester  _ winks  _ at him. "This is cheating."

"We…" Caleb swallows hard. "We have never worried too much about rules. We tend to make our own, don't we?"

She doesn't answer right away — she's eyeing him up and down, the Nicodrani wedding robes, his hair tied back, the stupid look on his face. "You look nice," she says at last, and Caleb has to laugh a little at that.

"You look stunning," he tells her honestly, ignoring the urge to push the door open further. "At least what I can see of you."

Jester grins. Her heart is pounding away in her chest at the sight of him, at his voice, his  _ words,  _ and she can't think of any cute or clever replies — there's nothing, so she just grins, and then slowly closes the door, inch by inch, not taking her eyes from Caleb's. 

"Don't be late," is what she comes up with, just before she clicks the door shut.

_ Don't be late.  _ Jester leans against the doorframe, her eyes fluttering shut, face hot with embarrassment.  _ Don't be late. Good, really smooth. Good job. Don't be fucking late.  _

With a few deep breaths, she tries to get her blush under control and erase what she's sure must be obvious, stupid feelings on her obvious, stupid face.

It takes her a moment to realize she hasn't heard any footsteps moving away on the other side of the door.

_ Hi,  _ she thinks.

How long they both stand there, Jester isn't sure — Caleb would know, must know, the way his mind ticks like a clock, counting off seconds — but it's got to be a minute or two. Just breathing, feeling the painted wood under her palm, wondering if her hand is being mirrored on the other side. Silence, and closeness, and something racing in her veins, like adrenaline or magic or love.

Then a clock strikes the hour, somewhere in another room, down the hall or on the floor above, and the spell breaks. Jester smooths out her dress with hands that are only slightly trembling. In the hallway outside she hears the faint creak of shoes on floorboards, moving away towards the staircase.

It's just about time.

*

Traditional Nicodrani weddings can take many forms, full of different customs and rituals and words, but today's ceremony is going to be short and simple. They only had a few weeks to plan it, after all — they have actually let a rumor circulate that Jester is pregnant in order to divert suspicion about the  _ very  _ short notice — and besides, the ceremony itself isn't the point. The point is to observe the Duke and the magistrate, to eavesdrop on them if they sneak away together at any point during the reception, and so Jester and the others have arranged for little more than a brief meditation, one song, and vows.

It will be fifteen minutes at the most, thinks Caleb. Maybe twenty, if things go a little long. He can get through it. It will be fine.

"You excited?" mutters Beauregard into his ear with a grin as they're all taking their places. They are on the landing of the Lavish Chateau's grand staircase, overlooking the ground floor, and the Mighty Nein, as friends of the couple, are arrayed on either side along the lower steps of the two wings leading up to the second floor. This is where the Ruby of the Sea makes her entrance whenever she performs — only today she will be singing from a nearby balcony. In her place, in the middle of the landing, stands Caduceus, who will be officiating, and Caleb with him, and in only a few minutes...

"I said are you  _ excited?" _

Caleb resists an urge to scowl at Beau. Instead he glances out at the small crowd of people still filing in below them, gathering around a makeshift aisle, really just a long carpet rolled out through the middle of the floor — with so short a ceremony, the guests will be standing, though there are of course tables and chairs at the edges of the room for when food will be served — and pretends that he is scanning the crowd for their targets. 

Beauregard is probably not fooled — she has almost certainly seen the way he is clenching his hands together nervously behind his back. Caleb rocks a little on his heels.  _ "Ja,  _ we will — we will get some good information, hopefully," he murmurs, avoiding her eye.

"Oh, some  _ real good information,"  _ she grins.

Caleb elbows her. "You think you are very funny, don't you?" he mumbles, shooting her a  _ look. _

Beauregard pats him on the back. "She looks  _ great,  _ by the way," she adds just before stepping back to her spot.

At those words Caleb could swear his heart rate doubles. His gaze is drawn against his will, for the hundredth time, to the front doors of the Chateau, down at the other end of what feels like an impossibly long aisle. Somewhere outside, Jester is waiting, ready to come through those doors, to walk across the room and up these stairs, to stand in front of Caleb and…

He swallows. Not to marry him. To do her part for the mission.

_ Caleb!  _ comes Nott's voice in his ear. She is the only member of the wedding party, besides Jester, who is not at her place on the staircase yet — she is still down on the floor among the guests doing some last-minute recon.  _ I've got eyes on the targets. The Duke's over by the bar and Magistrate What's-her-face is in the corner by the table with the blue flowers. Youcanreplytothismessage. _

The bird's eye view from the staircase makes it easy to follow Nott's directions and spot both figures where she described them. Caleb gives a curt nod. "I see them," he whispers back, before pausing with a slight frown. "Nott, are...are you crying?"

_ NO. No! _

A little spark of warmth goes off in his chest. "You know that this is not my real wedding,  _ ja?"  _ he murmurs.

_ Yes! I know! Which is why I'm not crying! _

"Get up here," smiles Caleb. If there's one thing he's sure of today, it's that he isn't getting fake married without Nott the Brave at his side.

By the time she has taken her place beside Fjord on the steps to Caleb's left — wiping suspiciously at her eyes — the last of the guests have arrived, and Caduceus gives a nod down to the musicians near the foot of the staircase. Only the best for the daughter of the Ruby of the Sea: a string quartet, a pianist, a harpist, and someone with a wind instrument that Caleb can't identify. This may not be Jester Lavorre's true wedding, Marion had told them all with a soft gleam in her eye, but she will have the finest musicians in the Menagerie Coast nonetheless.

Caleb is grateful for her support, of course, and for everything that she has done to make today possible, for the good of the Conclave and the safety of the city...but he could have done without that gleam in her eye. She is standing only a few dozen yards away right now, at her place on the balcony where she will sing soon, and when Caleb glances her way she meets his eye with a small smile. A  _ knowing  _ smile.

The Ruby's business is to see into hearts, he thinks. If only his heart had a little more darkness around it these days.

Then the music strikes up, and everyone turns toward the front of the room. A moment, another moment, and then Jester walks through the doors.

Caleb's breath leaves him like he's been punched in the gut.

She is in a white dress. Of course she's in a white dress. But it is somehow...startling, the way it contrasts with her blue skin, the way it seems to float with each step she takes, gauzy and ethereal around her like a cloud. Her shoulders are bare, and over her face is the sheerest of sheer veils, so translucent that her face is easy to see. The smile on her lips is as shy as Caleb has ever seen it. Her eyes...her eyes are brilliant, and they are fixed on him.

She is beautiful. She is everything.

Caleb takes a breath. Swallows against the emotion rising swift in his chest, threatening to choke him. Gods, he can't help himself when it comes to Jester. The last little bit of resistance hiding away somewhere in his heart crumbles in this moment as he watches her walk slowly towards him down the aisle. Whatever else, there's no denying that his feelings for her are real.

_ This should all be real,  _ whispers his heart.  _ Every moment of it. _

Jester really is trying not to  _ just  _ stare at Caleb. There's plenty to stare at, and it's all overwhelming: her family, the Mighty Nein, standing up there — Fjord and Nott behind Caleb, Beau and Yasha on the other side where Jester herself will be soon — her mother on the balcony, beaming down at her, gorgeous in a deep scarlet gown — the green-cloaked figure that only she can see, standing behind Caduceus, with a soft smile playing about its mouth just visible below the dark hood obscuring the rest of its face.

But her gaze keeps getting pulled back to Caleb. To his smart robes, to his hair tied gently back, to the  _ look  _ on his face. He's staring at her, lips parted, silent, and there's fire in his eyes.

He looks beautiful. He looks like he's in awe, like he's thunderstruck. He looks like he's in love.

Jester forgets about walking in time with the music. Everything important seems to be flying out of her head. Thank goodness for the flowers she's clutching in front of her — she's only just now realizing that wedding bouquets  _ must  _ be so that the bride has  _ something  _ to do with her hands, because her palms are sweating like mad and it's good to have anything to hold onto. She only hopes she doesn't crush these lilies with her death-grip. 

When she reaches the landing at the top of the stairs, she's early: the piece isn't over yet, and she stands there awkwardly, unsure what to do, until Nott holds out a hand for her flowers. Jester blinks and tears her gaze away from Caleb's face long enough to give them to her.

As soon as her hands are empty, Caleb reaches for her, takes her hands in his own, and lifts them up to press a quick kiss to the backs of her knuckles. "Hi," he murmurs.

"Hi," Jester whispers back.

He rubs his thumb in a slow circle across the back of her hand and memorizes every part of this moment. Her soft smile. How close she is. The lace, delicate, against her skin, framing her bare shoulders. The curve of her neck, the freckles dancing down to her clavicle.

Jester's smile widens ever so slightly and she blows a little  _ pfft  _ of air at her veil, making it lift for just a moment. "You have to flip it up," she whispers, suppressing a giggle.

Caleb laughs, quietly so that it stays between them, private somehow in this very public moment. Then he releases one of her hands, reaches up with trembling fingers to lift her gauzy veil up over her head. He hears Jester's breath catch as he does so.

_ God  _ he's handsome, she thinks. The sunlight streaming through the Chateau's windows is doing  _ things  _ to his hair, bringing out the copper and gold in every strand. As he lifts her veil back, his eyes are shining. One of his fingertips brushes feather-light against her cheek as he lowers his hand.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Jester whispers.

Caleb just stares at her. Finally he manages, "Pretty spectacular."

The processional music ends at last, and Jester's heart leaps into her throat. Every eye in the room is on her, she can feel it, and normally she loves nothing more than to be the center of attention, loves it just as much as Caleb hates it, but right now…

Caleb is holding both of her hands still. He gives them a squeeze. "Last chance, Lavorre," he murmurs, just for her, the softest edge of playfulness in his voice. "Change your mind?"

She can't speak, but she shakes her head, keeping her eyes on his.

"Good," he whispers.

*

Caduceus's meditation is...probably pretty lovely, probably full of wisdom and fondness, but Jester doesn't really hear any of it. She barely hears her mother sing, a sweet Sylvan aria that she chose herself, the Ruby of the Sea's favorite love song — Jester tries to listen, truly she does, but it's hard to pay attention to  _ anything  _ when Caleb is holding her hands and looking at her like she's the only thing in the world. 

She has to pay attention to Caduceus, though, when it's time for the vows. Traditional Nicodrani words, a short set of phrases to repeat, nothing fancy. Jester speaks hers in a soft, low voice. If it weren't for her mother's simple amplification spell, cast on the two of them just at this moment, no one would be able to hear her but Caleb, she's speaking so quietly.

Caleb feels her vows like lightning through his veins. For the rest of his life, he thinks faintly, he will never forget what it's like to hear those words in Jester's voice. 

When it is his turn, he repeats the phrases carefully at Caduceus's prompting. Loses himself in Jester's eyes as he swears himself to her. And when he slips in a phrase in Zemnian, he ignores the confused glance he sees Caduceus giving him out of the corner of his eye, ignores Beauregard's awkward cough, ignores everything but the way Jester's smile gets a little brighter even though she doesn't understand what he's just said. No one else here speaks Zemnian. He squares his shoulders and continues with the rest of the vows as if nothing has changed.

Something heavy in his chest tells him that everything has  _ absolutely  _ changed.

"Caleb and Jester, will you now exchange these rings, as a symbol of your vows?" asks Caduceus, calm and steady as ever, and he holds them out, bright and gleaming in the center of his palm.

Jester nearly gasps when she sees them. This is the one part of the wedding she had nothing to do with — it had been Caleb's job to get the rings, and she had assumed that he would...ask her mother for one of hers, perhaps, or take something from Nott's stash of jewelry, or at least spend the party funds on something cheap but functional for this  _ fake wedding.  _

But the ring she sees Caduceus holding is...expensive. And it's not her mother's, unless Marion's fingers have shrunk recently. Jester can see at once that this thin, delicate band of gold, intermittently set with tiny diamonds and sapphires, will fit her slender ring finger perfectly.

It does. Caleb slides it gently onto the fourth finger of Jester's right hand, as is the custom for Nicodrani women, the light catching it and setting the stones to gleaming as he pushes it past her knuckle and settles it snug against her skin. It matches her, she thinks — it matches her like Caleb matches her. Just the right fit.

Caleb's ring is different. It's a thicker gold band, rough and natural-looking, like it was crafted by hand with great care. When Jester slips it onto his finger, she sees him swallow, and there are unshed tears in his eyes.

Jester threads their fingers together, her right hand with his left one. Their rings are pressed together, and for a long moment Caleb stares: blue and white and gold, and Jester beyond, her sweet face turned up to his. He lifts his gaze back to her, finally, and there is no more hiding. Whatever is plain on his face is there to stay.

At their side, Caduceus gives a slow nod of benediction. There is a stifled sniffle from Beauregard, who is smirking hard to keep herself from crying. "You have exchanged vows and rings," Caduceus says clearly, "and it is now my honor to declare you wed in the eyes of god and men." The traditional words, followed by the traditional declaration: "You may now kiss your bride."

Caleb can't move.

But Jester can. She puts up her free hand to cup his jawline, stands on her tiptoes a little, and kisses him full on the mouth.

He loses himself in her. His hand finds the back of her neck, keeps her close as he returns the kiss, dizzy with the rush of it all, with the sweetness of her lips on his. It's over far too soon, as any wedding kiss should be, and when they break for air Caleb is about to say —  _ something,  _ but Jester moves back in for more, catches him in another kiss, hard and soft at the same time. Just once, as though she can't help herself, as though it's  _ not enough. _

Caleb's heart skips a beat. Several beats. When they do finally pull apart, he scans her face, his cheeks warm and his eyes  _ searching. _

"Jester…" he begins, so softly that he wonders if she even hears.

People are clapping, he is dimly aware. Almost none of the guests here actually  _ know  _ him or Jester, of course — they are only here because invitations from the Ruby of the Sea are not refused, after all, that is the whole reason why this ruse worked in the first place — but there is a polite applause from the crowd below, possibly even genuine from a few of them. 

They can all go to hell, Caleb thinks, barely able to keep himself from leaning forward and kissing Jester again — but then Caduceus is nodding at them to head downstairs, to greet their guests and accept congratulations, and the moment is gone.

*

They don't get another moment for a while. It's all handshakes and  _ thank you's  _ after that, as people come up to wish them joy, to tell them how happy they both look, what a lovely ceremony it was. Jester keeps one arm tucked into Caleb's the whole time as they work the crowd, but what she really wants — what she can tell  _ he  _ really wants, from the way he keeps stealing glances at her — is a few minutes alone together. Just sixty seconds, she'd take it. 

She gets it, eventually, but not with Caleb. It's Beau who comes and finds her and starts leading her off to a side room so that she can have a chance to take off her veil, touch up her makeup, and exchange her heels for some soft flats. There's going to be dancing later.

Caleb stops Jester with a hand to her arm just as Beau is guiding her away. Pulls her into a quick, fleeting kiss, then watches her go. 

"How about that, huh?" murmurs Beau as soon as they're alone. "Did you see that?"

"What?" Jester takes off her veil with clumsy fingers. Her heart is pounding.  _ That was not a mandatory kiss that time, huh.  _

"The magistrate, dude. She was giving the Duke this, like, totally  _ come hither  _ look. Like a  _ let's go outside and talk about our special treason project together  _ look."

"Uh-huh."

"...Are you listening?"

Jester has one shoe in her hand and one halfway onto her foot. "Yeah, yeah, I'm listening. The Duke and his treason."

Beau rolls her eyes. "God, you're useless like this. I love it. Go back out there and keep distracting everyone. It's obvious how much fun you're having."

Jester glances up at her, her nerves fluttering all over the place. "Is...is it obvious?"

"You're  _ glowing." _

That's stupid. Glowing is stupid. She scowls at Beau, but gets nothing but a grin in response.

Somewhere in the distance behind her, she hears the Traveler's soft and echoing chuckle.

When she slips back out into the main hall a few minutes later, Jester looks for Caleb, but she is intercepted by a handful of guests first, more people who just have to praise her beauty and choice of music and thank her for including them in her special day. All of them are strangers — one of them calls her Jessica by mistake. She stifles a laugh at that. Another congratulates her on her pregnancy before seemingly remembering that that was supposed to be a secret — Jester  _ does  _ laugh at that, and at the way he blushes a deep purple as he scurries away to blend back in with the anonymous crowd.

And then it's Mama, coming up to her through a sea of people who all part the way for her, taking Jester's hands and pressing a kiss to her cheek, her golden eyes filled with tears. Jester's heart aches a little at the pride and pleasure her mother so obviously takes in the sight of her daughter in a wedding dress. She knows her Mama well enough to tell when she's acting and when she's being genuine, and there is nothing false here, even though she's in on the ruse. 

"Your new husband cleans up pretty good, no?" asks Marion with a twinkle in her eye after she's finished gushing over Jester herself.

Jester blushes. "...Yeah, he...yeah," she mumbles, conscious of all the bystanders milling around them, finding their tables and seats.

Marion arches an eyebrow. "He looks pretty happy. And a little bit dazed."

_ "Shut up!"  _ Jester hisses, but she can't control the smile that breaks over her face.

By the time Nott and Fjord have cornered her and gotten in their merciless teasing, and Yasha has stammered out an awkward but sincere congratulations, Jester is beginning to lose her mind. She hasn't been able to catch a sight of Caleb since coming back out of the side room. He must be working the crowd, sticking to the plan — or it's just possible that the Duke and the magistrate have  kidnapped him, and this reception might be about to turn into a rescue mission…

There's a rush of strings, and suddenly music fills the room. Beau appears at Jester's elbow, her expression eager. "It's dancing time," she smiles. "Go on."

She gives her a little shove to the small of her back, and suddenly Jester is in the center of the room. And so is Caleb.

The music softens, calms, gets into pace for the first dance. Just the two of them, something slow. Later on there will be a waltz, Jester knows, and a few livelier numbers, and maybe even a cotillion, and everyone will be invited to join, but for now all eyes are on them. 

It's a heady feeling, thinks Caleb: an entire room of people looking at him and seeing  _ Jester's husband.  _

He swallows. Before him, Jester is blushing, her hair tumbling loosely out of its updo, free of her veil, and she steps forward and just...rests her hands on his shoulders.

"Hi," she smiles.

Caleb's hands drop to her waist and draw her in close, till there's hardly any space between them. "Hello, wife," he murmurs down to her, feeling like a fool even as part of him settles at the word, even as he breathes a little easier now that she's back in his arms. He lets himself relax at her touch. "Doing all right?" he adds softly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant for just the two of them.

"I'm good," she whispers back, gazing up at him. "You?"

He gives a small shrug and strokes one careful hand down her back. "It has been nice," he says simply, his eyes refusing to leave her face. He wonders if it would be overdoing it to kiss her one more time.

Someone coughs, and he realizes that they're supposed to be dancing. 

Slowly, he begins to lead her, his hands more firmly on her waist, hers still resting on his shoulders, fiddling slightly with the edges of his collar now and then. There are no steps to this dance, no choreography to remember, it's really little more than swaying, but it takes all of his concentration nonetheless, because Jester is in his arms, he can feel the heat of her body against him, he can smell lavender and mint on her breath and see every facet of the sapphires hanging from her earrings. 

After a minute it becomes easier. The thrill of Jester's touch and closeness settles into something more comfortable, more perfect, and maybe she feels it too, because she gives a contented sigh and slips her arms around his neck, resting her cheek gently against his shoulder.

He rests his chin against her temple in turn and allows his eyes to fall shut.

"Did I tell you that you look radiant? I can't really remember if I've said it," he mumbles against her skin, voice hoarse. 

She smiles into his shoulder. "I don't know," she murmurs. "But I knew." Whether that makes any sense to him or not, she's not sure, but she doesn't care. She keeps moving, slowly to the beat, hoping she doesn't step on his feet or anything, and lets one of her hands come up to cup the nape of his neck. It would really be all right with her, she thinks, if this lasted forever: her and Caleb swaying on the dance floor, maybe in love, maybe not. As long as he keeps holding her like this, she doesn't need an answer.

Caleb breathes her in. Jester's hands on him might be the very best thing he's ever felt. He lets one of his hands trail down her spine, his fingertips dragging over the fabric of her dress, finally settling on her lower back. Ducks his head and dares to press a single kiss against her bare shoulder. Holds his breath as he stays there, his lips inches from her skin.

She doesn't pull away. If anything she moves a little closer, holds him a little tighter.

His heart leaps.

"Not bad for a shotgun wedding," he whispers into her neck.

Jester muffles a giggle against his shoulder. "Not bad at all. Pretty good, actually."

Someone somewhere must give a signal, or else maybe the music changed — Caleb has no idea, he's just suddenly aware that other people are moving onto the dance floor and joining them, guests and some of their family, Beau and Yasha together, Marion dancing with Fjord. He shuts his eyes and brushes his lips against Jester's shoulder again.

"Kind of perfect," she whispers after a moment.

A little piece of  _ something  _ clicks into place in his chest. He pulls back, just enough to look Jester in the eyes, still close enough that he can keep his arms around her waist. 

She laces her fingers together behind his neck. He wonders if she can feel his pulse jumping under his skin.

"You know, Jester," he begins, searching for the right words with no idea whether he'll find them or not — this wasn't part of the plan, not  _ ever,  _ not until just this moment — 

She gives him a hint of a smile. It's all he needs.

"I have been meaning to speak to you about something," he murmurs. Strokes the small of her back with his thumbs, revels in the fact that he's able to do so. "Looking for a good moment."

"Everyone's dancing now," she smiles. "No one's paying attention to us anymore. Seems like a good moment to me."

He leans in, touches their foreheads together.  _ If you are sure,  _ is what he means to say.

What comes out of his mouth is, "I have been in love with you for — months, really."

Jester goes perfectly still. If they weren't so close he might mistake this for panic, for incoming rejection — but he can see the light in her eyes, the curve at the corners of her lips, and he  _ knows.  _ With a swallow, he throws all caution to the wind.

"I think," he murmurs, hoping she can even hear him this softly, "I would really like to be your husband one day."

Her smile is blinding. She moves her hands from the back of his neck to frame his face, and he can feel her wedding ring cool against his skin. "Is this a  _ proposal,  _ Caleb?" she whispers.

"Depends," he replies, smiling back. "Do you love me?"

She kisses him. Actually stops even pretending to dance and kisses him  _ properly,  _ her hands moving into his hair, her mouth open to him, a sigh trapped in her lungs that escapes when he surges into the kiss, putting in every ounce of longing and  _ want  _ that he has felt over the last few years of knowing and loving her. Her mouth is perfect against his. He bites down gently on her lip and is rewarded with a faint gasp as his hands spread possessively over her hips.

After a moment Caleb pulls back and shoots her an amused look. "That wasn't really an answer, wife."

"Yes it was," she murmurs breathlessly. Shit, she really shouldn't be this  _ turned on  _ in the middle of her wedding reception, right? "Was it  _ unclear?" _

_ "Ja,  _ a bit unclear," smiles Caleb. "Perhaps you could clarify for me." His gaze drops back to her lips for a fraction of a second, his blue eyes practically burning. 

Jester kisses him  _ hard.  _ Fuck propriety. "I love you," she whispers when she's pulled back for a fraction of a second. She kisses him again. "Have for months." Kisses him again, deep, her arms wrapped around him. "Ages," she whispers into his mouth. Another kiss, before he gets a chance to reply.

Caleb stops thinking, just kisses Jester over and over. Murmurs  _ I love you's  _ against her mouth, into her cheek, her neck. Kisses it into her forehead. Takes her hands in his own and whispers it against her fingers before catching her face between his palms. "You are everything," he whispers.  _ "Bevor dir war ich verloren." _

"Oh yeah?" Jester asks with a little huff of a laugh. "You said that during our vows, didn't you? I would say  _ me too  _ if I knew what it meant."

He strokes his thumb carefully over her cheekbone, committing to memory the freckles scattered there. "I was lost before you," he whispers, his voice warm.

Jester loses her breath for a moment, and her eyes well up with tears. "Then — then — good thing I found you, huh?" she whispers, resting her forehead against his.

"I am pretty thankful," he admits with a choked laugh. "Pretty thankful for you,  _ liebste. _ "

Jester slides her hands down to rest her palms against his chest, smiling through her tears. "You'll have to teach me how to say that," she murmurs. "In Zemnian. For when we say our  _ actual _ wedding vows." One stray tear makes its way down her cheek.

Caleb wipes it away with the back of his finger. "I will teach you whatever you want, Jester. I…" Something catches in his voice, and Jester feels it in the pit of her stomach like butterflies. "I would like to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you will let me."

"Is  _ that _ a proposal?" she asks, her thumbs stroking the front of his shirt. She can feel his heartbeat under her right palm, and she glances down for a second at the ring on her finger, the one she's been wearing for less than an hour, the one she never wants to take off.

"It's a promise," he replies simply, eyes serious.

She kisses him again, softly this time. "My answer's still yes."

He smiles. "I'll hold you to that, Lavorre," he teases quietly, mindful of the dancers around them. "But we should probably get through the first wedding before we start planning a second, I think."

Jester pouts at him. "Does that mean I can't keep this?" she asks, holding up her hand and wiggling her ring finger at him.

"No, I bought it for  _ you,"  _ he laughs. "You'll get it back at some point, don't worry."

Feeling stupid and sentimental, she smacks a kiss to the ring, and then blushes  _ hard.  _ "I love it, Caleb," she beams, and he's aglow too, his hands dropping back to her waist, giving her the smallest squeeze. She might die with happiness, actually, right now, right here on the dance floor. Beau is  _ definitely  _ going to give her shit for this, and she  _ doesn't care.  _ "It's perfect. I don't know what I was worried about."

"I told you I wouldn't get you an ugly ring," he whispers, kissing her forehead.

"I love yours, too, you know," she smiles. She takes his left hand from her waist and intertwines their fingers again, ring on ring. "It fits you somehow. Like...like a lot of work went into it, and out came something beautiful."

Caleb swallows, and she sees something in his gaze shift, like he's looking past her and not at her, just for a moment. "It is what I have left of my father," he says quietly. "It — I wanted to use it here, with you. Even if it wasn't…"

He glances around them, makes sure no one is listening.

"Even if it wasn't real, I wanted them here today," he finishes, color rising high in his face.

"Oh, Caleb…" Jester's heart constricts, and she presses a kiss to his fingertips. "They...they were here. I know they were. And...they're so proud of you, Caleb. Like I am."

His gaze is soft as he returns it to her face. "It's funny..." he muses. "I am...I am finally proud of myself. For the first time in — in a long time." He leans forward and catches her mouth in a sweet, unhurried kiss.

"You know," Jester begins afterward, the taste of him lingering on her lips, "technically — I mean I know we didn't sign anything, but like,  _ legally,  _ if we're going by the religious courts — "

There's a shriek from the other side of the room, followed by Nott's shrill voice in both of their ears.  _ BREAK IT UP,  _ she screeches,  _ they're GETTING AWAY, THEY'VE GOT SWORDS. _

_ "Scheisse,"  _ mutters Caleb, stepping back and releasing Jester. His hands go for the spell pouch under his vest as Jester fishes her holy symbol out from up her sleeve.

"We're coming, Nott!" she calls as the music stumbles to a halt. Beau comes running past from somewhere behind her, she can see Fjord summoning his falchion and leaping over the bar, and maybe a couple of the guests are starting to panic a little — maybe someone has fainted a little, and there's definitely a crash of breaking glass upstairs, though god knows whether or not that has anything to do with the Duke and the magistrate.

Caleb grabs her around the waist and kisses her soundly. "Time to go."

It wouldn't really be a Mighty Nein wedding if it didn't involve everything going to hell and at least one chase scene in wedding clothes, thinks Jester with a grin as she hikes up her dress above her ankles. They can have all the vows and rings and dances they want, but this is what makes it real.

She takes Caleb's hand, and they run.

_ fin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here is Jester's wedding dress](https://66.media.tumblr.com/835e07df07d4685253bb0c0c838964a1/tumblr_puchg5PiSR1qa4fwfo1_400.jpg), for those of you who, like us, care about such things. And here is something else: the absolutely wonderful [takeninstride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeninStride/pseuds/TakeninStride) _drew fanart for this fic,[look at it it's so beautiful](https://daciafu.tumblr.com/post/186156488568/a-sweet-lil-gift-for-elsinore-rose-and-widoshay) she's a gift thank you so much we're screaming._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bonus epilogue content!_ We are two cheesy goobers who couldn't resist writing and posting our versions of Caleb and Jester's _real_ wedding vows, maybe a year or so later. Enjoy this fragment of fluff.

Jester would hold his hands and look up into his dear,  _ dear face, _ and say — softly, so only he can hear — their friends can just  _ fucking ask her later okay, _ this is between  _ them _ –

"You started looking out for me almost the moment we met. Taking care of me. Making sure I was happy and had everything I needed. Making sure that...that I had someone to talk to when I was sad, and that I knew I was important, and I didn't have to be perfect all the time. And I think...probably for a long time you thought I didn't notice. Or you hoped, at least.

"But I noticed. And it's part of why I fell in love with you...and it's what I promise to do for you, Caleb, for the rest of our life together — to take care of you, to look out for you, to make sure you have what you need. I will always be here to listen when you're sad, to help you be brave when you're scared, to remind you that you're important, to show you how much I love you even though you're not perfect.

"I will protect you. I will fight for you. I will heal you. I will pray for you. I will bring you back from death if I have to. I will be your wife until the day I die and forever after. And...I will let you have as many cats as you want. That's a  _ vow, _ Caleb, and you can hold me to it."

*

Caleb clears his throat. He’s pale, and nervous — more nervous than when it had been fake. This time he wants to show Jester exactly what she’s done for him.

"I spent many years in darkness. It isn’t a pleasant thought, or a particularly romantic thing to say, but it is the truth. I lived  _ years _ feeling like I was just submerged in...total darkness. And then I met you."

His voice softens here, his hand reaching out to cup her jaw. Caleb’s eyes fill with tears.

"You were like this small candle flickering in the darkness. The first light I had seen in years. I was nearly blinded by you, Jester, and I wanted to run from it but..." he laughs, "how could I run from someone who cared so much? Who worked so hard to bring light into my life, into every life that crossed your path? It was...impossible not to fall in love with you.

"But it...it can be exhausting to burn that brightly for everyone you meet. To bring hope, to carry the burden of always bringing joy." He would blink heavy, a few tears rolling down his cheek now. "I promise to bring light into your world, Jester, just as you have brought it to mine. I promise to carry your burdens because from this day until my very last day, they are my burdens now too."

And he would swallow hard. Stare at her beautiful face. "I meant what I said the first time. I was lost until I met you, and I have found myself again by loving you. Thank you for being my light, Jester."


End file.
